


It's Been Awhile

by badlifechoices



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Bruce Needs a Hug, Jason always need a hug, Jason comes home, M/M, Maybe a Fix-It, from his little bird, i guess, post arkham knight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlifechoices/pseuds/badlifechoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce knows that things aren't easily fixed but sometimes, sometimes he'll think about what could be if everything was different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Been Awhile

'How's Alfred?'

'He misses you. We all miss you.

'Come _home._ '

 

Bruce knows that he's here before he even hears the soft voices filtering into the hallway from the half-closed door of the kitchen. He's seen the motorbike in the driveway, has gathered it from the muddy footprints in the hallway, from the worn leather jacket thrown over the chair in the entrance hall. And yet he doesn't dare to let that delicate feeling of hope bloom in his chest, knowing too well that this doesn't mean anything, not for him, not for _them_. He moves silently, down the corridor and to that door that seems at the same time so inviting and fills him with almost fearful apprehension. He lingers, hands pushed into the pockets of his suit, not wanting to intrude but at the same time longing so dearly to do just that.

Jason's voice is a low rasp, as though he's hoarse and there's a catch to his voice that makes Bruce's chest ache. Alfred is the usual, calming presence, responding gently the way he always does though it's obvious to anyone who knows the butler how fond he still is of that young visitor. Leaning against the wall in his back, Bruce allows his eyes to slip shut just for a little moment. He doesn't need to know what the two of them are talking about, doesn't listen to the words, just that voice he's been missing for too long. If he stays like this he can almost imagine that things are different. He can't block out the past entirely, can't picture a present where none of it all has happened but he can see how it _could_ be. If things were different he would slip into the kitchen, would be greeted with a polite nod on Alfred's side and a smile from Jason. In a different world he would pour himself a coffee, would sit down with them. 'Welcome home,' he would tell the boy and Jason would look at him with those beautiful eyes of his, filled with warmth instead of pain.

'B,' he'd say, his mouth pulling into that tell tale grin he wore so well when he was younger, not the one that he would give the bad guys, not the crooked, mischievous one but the honest, joyous one that were equal parts gutter rat and prodigy. 'It's good to be back.' Jason would throw his feet up on the vacant chair, ignoring the disapproving eyebrow Alfred gives him. He'd steal Bruce's mug, their fingers brushing against each other as that teasing glint settles in Jason's eyes. He'd down the coffee, only to tell Bruce that he really should consider himself lucky to have a butler who makes such good coffee that doesn't taste like the 'watery piss' one can buy at any street corner. Bruce would offer to pour him his own and Jason would refuse, no less interested in having his own cup than he is in removing his dirty shoes from the other chair.

In a different world, Bruce would ask him about what he's up to and maybe he would even get a reply, nothing specific, cryptic hints at criminals he's tracked down and Bruce wouldn't ask for more information because he knows that Jason only provides whatever he fancies. They'd settle in silence, a comfortable silence as Alfred prepares dinner, something that would make Jason's eyes light up with equal parts nostalgia and joy. Bruce would end up watching him devour his food like he hasn't eaten properly in days, would listen to the boy complimenting Alfred's cooking and talking about how much he's _missed it_. Bruce would chuckle, relishing the strange feeling that all of this is _right_ somehow, like it belongs that way. Alfred would tell Jason that he'll prepare the guest bedroom for him and Jason would thank him though both he and Bruce know well enough that it won't be needed.

If things were different, Jason would trail after him when Bruce heads down to the cave, would brush his fingers against this and that memento that Batman has acquired in his absence, his instinct to touch everything leaving Bruce's lips curl into a smile as he pretends to focus on the newsfeed. He'd saunter across the cave, no hurry colouring his steps as he approaches, as though he has all the time in the world and he does. Bruce would offer to take him along when he goes on patrol later that night and Jason would hum, an indifferent sound that translates to neither 'yes' nor 'no' but a mere 'I'm considering it'. He wouldn't press the issue because no matter how much he longs to have his partner back at his side out there, Jason will join him when he's ready for it. They'd linger for a moment, Jason meeting his gaze without hesitation, wordlessly challenging him.

In this better reality their lips would meet in the dim light of the Batcave, would taste like longing that has come to an end. Their hands would wander, discovering and re-discovering all there is to the other, their forms strangers and yet familiar in the way they fit together. Bruce wouldn't hesitate to embrace him, would have the right to let his lips trail over Jason's smooth skin, to pull him onto his lap when he sinks back into the comfortable chair. He would trace the curve of that spine, the muscular planes of his back to the round of his arse, pulling him closer as their tongues tangle together. Jason would ride him right there, his skin glowing in the blue light of the screens, arching into Bruce's touch, his husky voice echoing off the high walls. In this world Jason would sink against him afterwards, would rest his head on Bruce's shoulder, lips grazing his skin and breath tickling the little hairs at the back of his neck. They'd rest together, too lazy to move until Jason murmurs into his ear that they have 'a lot of catching up to do. I hope you can keep up old man.'

In a different world, Jason would end up in the passenger seat of the Batmobile later, his feet thrown up on the dashboard, the cigarette that Bruce forbade him to smoke inside, dangling from his fingers. He'd have his head thrown back, eyes half closed as the night flies by the window and Bruce would know that he only needs to reach out and Jason would be there. It's everything he's longed for, the way they work together as though they've never been apart, the way Jason's moves complement his own and the way the boy's laughter will ring through the narrow streets of his city like he's never left. If things were different Jason would stay the night, curled up on the other side of the bed that was always too large for Bruce alone, their legs tangled together the way they're supposed to be. Bruce would comb his fingers through that soft hair, allowing himself this moment of sentiment before he draws the other into his arms. He'd sleep without nightmares, safe from the memories, from the shadows that seem to cling to his very soul, would find solace in Jason's arms.

A sigh falls from his lips as he pushes himself away from the wall, ignoring the ache in his chest to finally approach the door instead. He makes sure his steps are head this time, one, two, three, before he pushes open the kitchen door. He's not surprised to be greeted with the scraping of a chair against the marble floor, the clinking of a cup that is being set down too hastily. Alfred looks up at him and instead of the nod he gives Bruce a look that almost makes him think the butler knows how long he's been standing in the hallway, daydreaming.

Jason doesn't look him in the eye, doesn't raise his head when he mutters: "I should go. Thanks for the tea, Alfred."

"You could stay." The words fall from his lips before he can stop him and for a second Bruce is caught in uncertainty, not knowing how the other will react. But Jason only shrugs, none of the defiance or anger left in the line of his shoulders as he pushes past the older man to get out the door. There are no words, no smile and for a moment Bruce finds himself wishing that he would've never stepped into the kitchen.

He watches as Jason trudges down the hallway, pushing down the urge to follow him because he knows that it won't be of any use. Nothing that he can do or say will make things right, not this easily. "Give it time, master Bruce." Alfred reminds him gently and Bruce only nods, unable to move from his spot in the door.

If things were different he'd know that Jason will be back.

 

'I can't go back.'

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not entirely sure what this is but i ended up in a brujay mood so i had to write a little something


End file.
